Park Gukgi knew he couldn’t persuade his father, so he could only sigh and relay the message to the people in South Korea.

The higher-ups had no choice but to send money.

After all, they couldn’t afford to completely anger Park Bo-gi over this matter.

Could the management collectively refuse to cooperate? Of course they could, but there was no need.

Park Bo-gi was petty. If the tech city project ended up making huge profits, he would undoubtedly come after them one by one for revenge.

And in South Korea, revenge from him meant being dragged straight into hell.

Even the presidents there never met a good end—such was the darkness within the chaebols.

No one dared to gamble on what the future might hold.

Meanwhile, back at the manor, our Lin Ran and Luo Yao paid no attention to the undercurrents of the outside world, treating it all as mere gossip.

Their biggest concern at the moment was when Luo Yao’s relatives would finally leave.

Lin Ran sat on the floor, leaning against the living room sofa, looking both amused and exasperated.

“I used to joke about us being ‘lost in pleasure,’ but now it’s literally true.”

Luo Yao rested her head on his arm, gazing at Lin Ran with adoration. No matter how she looked at him, she couldn’t get enough.

“But I love this feeling of being ‘lost in pleasure’ with you, Ah-Ran. What can I do about it?”

Since Lin Ran’s rebirth, the two had been either basking in sweetness or on their way to it, rarely stepping outside.

The only times they left the capital were their trip to the grasslands and this visit to Shanghai.

“Yao Yao, once this matter is settled, let’s go on a trip,” Lin Ran suggested.

“Where to?”

Lin Ran glanced at Uncle Fu, then back at Luo Yao.

“The highest peak in the world. The purest colors paired with the best version of you.”

“Alright. When do we go?” Luo Yao agreed without hesitation. Lin Ran exchanged a look with Uncle Fu—mission accomplished.

“The eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.”

Luo Yao nodded, then suddenly seemed to remember something but shook her head.

After all these years of not caring, such things didn’t matter anymore.

“Ah-Ran, how does Shanghai compare to the capital?”

“Shanghai’s nice, but I prefer places with distinct seasons. Besides, it’s a bit too cold here.”

Lin Ran wasn’t lying.

Though the manor’s villa was temperature-controlled, outside was another story.

And this cold was different from the capital’s.

The capital’s cold was like a physical attack—something you could tough out with enough resistance.

Here, it was more like a magical attack, complete with piercing effects.

The outdoor temperature didn’t seem that low, but the actual feel of it was indescribable.

“Hmm… then I’ll have the manor renovated to keep the outdoor areas temperature-controlled too.”

Lin Ran immediately stopped her.

“Let’s save resources. It’s too wasteful, especially since we won’t be staying here long.”

Fair point. Wasting resources was shameful, regardless of money.

“But I don’t want you to feel even the slightest chill.”

Lin Ran’s lips curved into a smile, as if drawn with an artist’s precision.

“Suddenly, I don’t feel cold anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re here. Everyone says you’re ‘cold as ice,’ but no one knows you’re the best heater I could ever ask for.”

“Pfft!” Uncle Fu nearly spat out his tea.

He had to admit Lin Ran’s words were getting cheesier by the day—almost unbearable.

Even if he tried, he could never say something like that to Granny Wang.

Even the servants in the villa were covered in goosebumps.

Though they’d built some immunity after serving the couple for days, Lin Ran’s full-powered charm was still hard to withstand.

Young Master Lin, please spare us. We can’t take it anymore.

Only Luo Yao found nothing wrong with his words.

She noticed the servants struggling to keep straight faces.

“‘Heater’… not bad. Ah-Ran, you’re getting better at knowing exactly what I like to hear.”

“Of course. What kind of husband would I be otherwise?”

Lin Ran suddenly turned to Uncle Fu. “Old man, you’re not getting jealous of all this sweetness, are you?”

“Huh? No, not at all! Young Master Lin and the young miss are the most blissful couple I’ve ever seen.”

Lin Ran nodded. “Remember, your bonus depends on your attitude.”

Uncle Fu immediately perked up, launching into a flurry of praise.

“Yes, yes! The young miss is Young Master Lin’s heater, and Young Master Lin is the antidote to the young miss’s poison. Only you can make her life complete—”

Luo Yao wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, why does it sound so sweet when Ah-Ran says it but so nauseating when you do?”

Uncle Fu: …

Speechless in my mother tongue.

The servants stifled laughs, including Jiang Feihua, who couldn’t help but crack a smile.

They hadn’t been around Uncle Fu long enough to witness his iron-fisted discipline.

Two servants exchanged glances.

“I think Uncle Fu’s right, but his delivery’s off. If the young miss is poisoned by love, Young Master Lin would drink the poison too. A couple this devoted is rare even in novels.”

“Exactly. Young Master Lin’s love for the young miss is suffocating—in a good way. Even if we die from sweetness, it won’t dim their radiance. This must be true love.”

Lin Ran raised an eyebrow at their whispers.

Even Jiang Feihua was stunned.

This level of flattery is beyond me.

Y’all are playing with fire.

But Luo Yao didn’t see it that way.

Though interrupting the butler was rude, their words were far more pleasing than Uncle Fu’s.

“You two, what are your names?”

“I’m Hao Huishuo.”

“I’m Hua Zhentian.”

Seeing Uncle Fu’s defeated expression, Luo Yao ordered,

“Hao Huishuo and Hua Zhentian—not bad. Note these two. Double their bonuses.”

The servants exchanged thrilled glances.

“Thank you, young miss! Thank you, Young Master Lin!”

The others cursed themselves for missing such an opportunity.

The pair had taken a gamble, trying to snatch the bonus right from Uncle Fu’s grasp.

And it worked.

“Ah-Ran, I’ve booked the top chef from Shanghai’s finest restaurant for tonight. Let’s try it together.”

Luo Yao didn’t usually care for food, but with Lin Ran, it was different.

“Huh? You can order a chef to go?”

“Of course. Because we’re rich.”

Lin Ran knew Luo Yao just wanted to spare him the effort and let him taste Shanghai’s specialties. He couldn’t refuse.

“Alright, let’s see what Shanghai’s top chef can do. Is it from Ping’an Restaurant?”

Lin Ran knew the place was famous.

“No. Ping’an’s chefs don’t need reservations—just a word from us.”

Lin Ran: ???